Space Clinker

by grimbeau

We called the comet Ambrose after tinned rice pudding
and spectcular sunsets by campfires on the old A5

The Duke had been busy with his gun by the look of it,
spent cartridges littered the mile-a-minute and ondive

Billy was sure of a good clattering when she told him
yet tears and snot were wiped away on his furtive sleeve

When Ambose fell to earth he was no more than a clinker
yet we raised him as one of our own and watched him thrive